The Rabid Mind Two

by Bruce Buckshot Hemming

  “Who might they be?” he asked.

  “Friends,” Matt replied, before they could continue, Jet stepped forward,

  “Jethro Simmons, sir.” He said by way of introduction, “Pleased to finally meet you. Matt’s told me all about you.” He stretched his hands to the older man, who took it in a strong grip.

  “And this is my girlfriend Claire Banner.” He said, motioning for her to come over.

  “Pleased to meet you, sir.” She said.

  Jim eyed them, they looked like decent folks, and Matt and Sandra obviously trusted them.

  “Pleased to meet you both.” He said smiling, and he could have sworn he heard Matt and Sandra sigh in relief. “We survivors have to stick together.” He said, tapping Jet on the shoulder.

  “Couldn’t agree more sir.” The latter replied, more at ease now.

  “Well, what are you standing around for? We’ve got a lot of unpacking to do.” He said, jolting Matt and Sandra to action. Jet and Claire joined them in unpacking. At the sight of the guns and ammo, Matt whistled in surprise.

  “I have to know how you came by this Ak-47. I always wanted one.” Matt said.

  Jim was silent, as he studied the fence posts they’d put up.

  “Nice work on the fence posts Matt. How are we on the rebar?”

  “Haven’t been able to find any yet Jim, but Jet and I plan on going to outlying towns to see if we can find some tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay, sounds like a good idea. We need this fence set up.” He paused, damn, he needed a cigarette.

  “New truck?” He asked, moving towards the fences and inspecting them, he needed something to get his mind off the need for a smoke.

  “Yeah, long story.” Matt replied, taking the last of the supplies to the store. They would be arranged later. After dropping the bag, he returned to Jim where he stood checking and rechecking the strength of the fence posts.

  “Everything okay Jim?” He asked.

  “Yeah, son. Just checking the integrity is all.” Damn! He needed a cigarette.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Losing a friend.

  The next day, Jim woke up early and made breakfast. He hadn’t been able to get a wink of sleep all night, and Debbie’s occasional sob had not helped matters. He’d eventually just cuddled up to her and she had nestled into his arms, as he rocked her to sleep, wishing he could perform the same trick on himself.

  The smell of something cooking wafted into Matt and Sandra’s nostrils, they looked at each other and smiled, the look bringing back memories of the previous night.

  Sandra had been so happy that her father and Debbie were back home alive, she’d attacked him that night with a hunger she’d not shown for the seven days that they were gone. It was like she was making up for lost time, and Matt was all too ready to give as much as she wanted. His hunger matching her own both in intensity and frenzy. She’d had to bite down on a piece of cloth to muffle her sounds of ecstasy as they melded into each other, becoming one, as they edged further and further towards the peak. They’d gone again, and again, finally collapsing from exhaustion after the third endeavor. She’d cuddled up to him. He just held her, and together they’d drifted off into a dreamless sleep that was incredibly restful.

  “Morning beautiful.” He said, caressing her chin.

  “Morning.” She said, smiling with the knowledge of their shared thoughts. “That was quite a night.”

  “I know. I missed you.” He replied, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

  “I know I’ve been a little off.”

  “I understand. You were worried about your father. It was totally understandable.” “Now, I’ve gotta go get ready. Jet and I need to be on the road very soon. I need to find out the source of this smell.”

  Jim whistled as he prepared breakfast, the chore presenting a distraction from his cravings that he welcomed with open arms. When he’d finally woken up from what seemed like five minutes of sleep, Debbie still in his arms, he’d sat up craving a cigarette with a fiery intensity, “Jim?” he heard Matt’s voice come from behind him, and he paused opening a can and turned,

  “Morning Matt., fine morning isn’t it?”

  “The sun’s hardly up in the sky yet Jim. Why are you cooking so earlier?”

  “Lots of work to be done. We need to fix the battery bank and get it wired into the house better. I really hate running the generator for very long; that is just open invitation for infected or raiders.”

  “Raiders?”

  “Long story short, we helped a woman out to save her son and she took us to where she was staying; a nice set up. Guard towers and everyone trained in shooting crossbows for the infected but a group of men took the place over so we had to help them take it back. That’s how I got the AK-47, off one of the dead raiders.”

  “I take it you two had some excitement?”

  “It was touch and go for a while there but we got lucky. In your travel take every cross bow you can find. Then we need a wood lathe to build the cross bolts. That way we can save on ammo.”

  “But crossbows are slow reloading. You can shoot much faster with a gun.”

  “Let me tell you something. I watch their teams practice with cross bows six shots in thirty seconds.”

  “Wow, that must have taken months of training to get that fast.”

  “Yes, and they had a chain link fence ten foot tall. I’m thinking we finish the fence with the rebar pikes and then surround ourselves with a fence so we have two barriers between us and them.” We also need to start standing watches at night. Raiders could easily take us at night.”

  “You’re right, we have become too slack.”

  “Tell me about Jet and his woman.”

  “Claire, I saved them just before dark one day. Jet’s best friend was killed by a hive. So far so good. They both have been working like bees helping us get ready.”

  “Good, we need more people. Did you check the propane tank? This cook stove and hot water heater are a luxury right now. If we don’t get another tank in before winter, it’s going to suck heating water on a wood stove.”

  “We’re going to have to find a propane truck. A full one would be great parked out back next to the tank. What do you think one of those tanks hold, two thousand gallons?”

  “Not sure, but if you find one bring it here.”

  ***

  Debbie sat up in bed contemplating her next move. Perhaps she was relying too much on Jim. I mean, it is a lot to ask of someone to keep going on these countrywide searches for kids that might as well be dead. She reprimanded herself for the errant thought, telling herself that they were alive and she would see them again. Her mind drifted to the letter, reading it over and over,

  Ty thinks this is a good idea, and right now, I’m too out of ideas to argue the logic. Children are safe. Ty’s taking them to his home town. He says he still has friends down there. If they’re anything like him, the children should be more than safe there. Ham radio set up at friend’s house, the call sign is ZJ1SS frequency 147.255

  ‘Children are safe,’ it had to be her kids. She needed to hold out hope.

  She got up and went downstairs. Jim was almost done setting the table for breakfast when she got there, and she could barely hold back her surprise.

  “Err, what’s this? It’s barely 7 o’clock.” She said incredulously.

  “Well, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, it should be taken as early as possible. So, they say.”

  “Who says that?”

  “They, you know the experts. Wake the ones who are still sleeping, I need to get to the store and arrange those supplies we brought in yesterday.” Just then, Matt and Jet arrived at the table sporting backpacks packed with all the essentials needed for the trip.

  “Morning Deb.” Matt greeted as he sat down and helped himself to some b
iscuits, Jim had made a feast. They’d probably have to pack some for the road, he thought.

  Jim returned from the store room. “You two have not left yet. You’re burning daylight.”

  Matt looked up at Jet. “See what I mean, slave driver.”

  Jet smiled and looking up at Jim said. “Yes, sir right away sir. May I finish my coffee first, sir?”

  “Knock it off, you two clowns need to get going. I want to see you back here in one piece. Remember crossbows, propane, rebar and wood lathe.”

  “Got it General.” Jet said with a smile.

  “Get a real truck a full size ½ ton 4x4. Two trucks can haul more. That little Ranger won’t take all the weight of the rebar.”

  Matt finished his coffee. “Right away General, sorry we need to eat first.” Smiling he grabbed his pack and headed for the door. Jet quickly followed.

  ***

  Matt and Jet drove in silence for a while, till they hit the highway headed for the nearest town. Each lost in thought about different things. Jet’s mind was with Claire. She was starting to have nightmares, all of them involving Sam. She had convinced herself that if she’d stayed in the car like Jet had asked, he would still be alive. Survivor guilt. With his own self-blame in mind, advising Claire to give up her own, was just a task he couldn’t bring himself to carry out effectively.

  Matt was more worried about getting to a good lumber yard as quickly as possible and getting the rebar they needed. He didn’t like their odds of survival if a hive hit them in their absence, and there was also the issue of the roof shooting holes. He’d been too busy with the fence and had nearly forgotten about it altogether.

  That afternoon he passed by two cars on either side of the road, barely even taking notice of them.

  Unknown to him, they were the group who called themselves ‘the roadside gang’ and he had the misfortune of crossing their hunting ground. They preferred to drive around searching for unwitting survivors on supply runs or taking a cross country drive for better hiding places. It was slow work, as most people were holed up most of the time and hardly came out, but from time to time, they’d succeeded in getting their hands on well stocked survivors on their way back from supply runs.

  Immediately after Matt passed them, the two cars fell in behind him and sped up. One of the cars quickly overtook him and parked causing Matt to instinctively hit the brakes. The other parked behind the truck. No one got out. Then a voice rang out a huge speaker system rigged to the top of the vehicle that had stopped them in front.

  “You are advised to comply with our every command as any violation will be met with stiff consequences. You have thirty seconds to come out of your truck. Walk away. Leave all your supplies we promise no harm will come to you. We don’t want to kill you. Leave now and no one will get hurt.”

  Inside the truck, Matt’s hand tightened around the steering wheel and he turned to Jet.

  “You’re not thinking of surrendering, are you?” Jet asked in a hushed tone.

  “Of course, not, we can’t lose this truck. If I can just get past this first car, I think I can outrun and lose ‘em.” Matt said.

  “Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do.” Jet said as he whispered his plan to Matt. Matt’s eyes widened in surprise, but he nodded his consent to the plan, acknowledging Jet’s bravery.

  Matt floored it aiming the truck at the rear end of the other vehicle smashing it on the corner and pushing it out of the way far enough to drive by. Meanwhile Jet rolled down the window and open fire at the vehicle aiming for the driver and any movement he saw. Immediately, the car behind gave chase. The first car also gave chase. The truck was fast, but the other cars were gaining on it. Matt yelled. “Here is the plan. I am going to break hard. You take the shotgun it’s loaded with double ought buck. Shoot out their front tires. I will use the pistol on this side and try to take out the other one.

  Matt suddenly braked hard, causing the cars to level up on either side of the truck, immediately. Matt heard the blast of the shotgun as he fired one handed into the engine hoping to damage it enough to stop then aimed for the front tire. A quick 7 shot and he hit the gas. The one on his side open fired busting out the side mirror he heard the bullets hitting the truck sounded like large rocks thunk, thunk, thunk. He heard Jet firing the pump shotgun as fast he could. Jet looked back as they pulled away. “I got his tire and put 3 rounds into the windshield but the bastard is still coming.”

  “Not for long on a flat tire. Quick, reload, the idiot on this side is gaining on us.”

  Matt looking back saw a man on the passenger side half hanging out the window aiming an Ar-15 at them. “Fuck, I have enough of this shit.” He slammed on the brakes This time the other car stopped just as quickly, the guy hanging out the window was smashed forward into the window frame unable to shoot. Matt slammed it in park, jumped out and open fire with Glock 17, aiming at the guy hanging out the window first and the driver second. He ran up and shot through the open window killing anything that moved. Only one in the back seat. He empty the magazine and shot each one three times.

  Jet had come running back. Matt heard the thump, thump, thump of the other car riding on the flat tire stopped about thirty feet from them. He place the pistol on top of the hood of the car and pick up the Ar-15 that had fallen to the ground. Checking to make sure the safety was off he raised to his shoulder and open fire on the windshield. Spraying glass all over. The car was only thirty feet behind them. He walked up as Jet kept pace with him and they reached the vehicle and stop firing. “Jet checked the back seat, looks like the two in the front are dead.”

  Jet walked up to the back door when a bullet shattered the window. He ducked down taking cover. Matt ran up to the other side and opened fire shooting the window out and hitting the guy hiding behind the seat. “Jet you hit? You ok?”

  “Yea, caught some glass, my hand is bleeding but otherwise good shape.” Jet was standing next to the front door and a shot rang out, hitting him in the chest he fell over. Matt shot his last three rounds into the back of the man head.

  Matt ran around to the other side. Jet lying on the ground, blood soaking his shirt. “Damn I am sorry. You’re going to be ok.”

  “No, I’m not. Take care of Claire.” Those were his last words as he starred up to the sky with unmoving eyes.

  Matt screamed up to the sky. “Why.” Only silence. He felt so alone. He yanked the door open and dragged out the body of the man that shot Jet. He was wearing a bullet proof type III bullet-proof vest. Playing possum, he had waited for his chance to kill. Matt kick him in the side and raged. “You dumbass, you should have played dead the whole time, we would have left you. Why?” Loading Jets body in the back of the truck he turned around and headed for home.

  ***

  The house was on battery power now. They needed to get the batteries in the basement and build a plywood cabinet with a vent to the outside. Very important to vent the gases of batteries charging or a simple spark could cause an explosion. They would run the generator in the morning for one hour. Do the major washing and showers then. But at night when the hive was moving it was silent mode only. At night, it was black-out time. All windows were covered with double wool blankets to make sure no light could be seen from the outside.

  After dinner, the ladies now sat at the table talking. Debbie was telling them a particularly funny story about her son’s reaction to seeing a worm for the first time when he was two, and the girls were in stitches laughing. It was getting dark and they needed to put out the lights and drop the window blinds to mask all activity within the house. After all that they sat back down and spoke about their lives before the virus, Sandra spoke of her mother, who’d died of cancer.

  “To an extent, I’m kinda happy she didn’t live long enough to see the world turn to shit. She really was the best you know. She knew how to handle my dad and make him as gentle as a puppy, kind of like the effe
ct you have on him Debbie. You actually kind of remind me of her. The last few days before her death, she’d been very peaceful, she was on morphine of course. To dull the pain she was going through. She told me to take care of my dad. Funny, one would think it should be the other way around, but even though he likes to be gruff sometimes with the hard exterior, he’s a really nice guy.”

  “Aren’t they all?” Debbie asked.

  Nights like these had ways of making one go down the road of nostalgia. One went down memory lane, remembering the past, and how events had moulded the present, and what would happen, moving forward. Later, as Debbie slipped into bed beside Jim, she decided to take care of him to the best of her ability.

  Jim heard a vehicle approaching around midnight. Always the light sleeper he stood up looking out the window. A small truck was coming down the street. “Debbie, wake up, we have company. You get the others awake. I’m going down to sneak outside and see what they are up too.”

  “What do you want us to do?”

  “Take cover, get your guns and get ready to fight.”

  Jim had just stepped out the back door when the headlights pulled into the driveway. How the hell do they know this house has supply, he thought.

  The headlight turned off and he heard the door open, peeking around the corner it looked like Matt. He called out. “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “Jim, it’s me, I need your help.” His voice was not it’s normal cheerful self. Something was definitely wrong.

  Jim walked up to the truck. “What is going on Matt?”

  “A world of shit. Jet’s dead. We were jumped by raiders. They are dead but one of them killed Jet.” Matt explained what happened.

  “Poor Claire.” Jim said when he heard a voice behind him.

  “Poor Claire, why?” Claire asked. “Where is Jet?”

  “I’m sorry Claire, Jet didn’t make it. He was shot by raiders.”

  “Oh, my God, noooo. She wailed. A type of deep primal scream of pain. “No. Not Jet, please God, not Jet. She looked at Matt and flames shot from her eye. “Why the fuck didn’t you protect him.”